Blessed by the Moon, Baptized in Blood
by chiriruoni
Summary: Despair and misery defined their lives. The powers that be seemed to conspire against them. In solitude they faltered. Yet a single shared wish brings these two, as they are consumed by sorrow and madness, together. Be this a miracle or curse? Most likely both. (This is a complete reboot and re-imagining of "Familiar of the Snowstorm". Do NOT expect it to be the same.)
1. Chapter 1: Harvest Moon, Full

**A/N: Finally, a complete reboot and re-imagining of "Familiar of the Snowstorm"! Hopefully no one will be too disappointed that I've decided to start with a similar premise but go different route. Many things will not be the same while others will have passing likeness. Hopefully this time I'll be more consistent and not jump around as much. This one will also be a tad bit darker than before and focus much more on the relationship between Priscilla and Tabitha, without the baggage of the whole familiar business. Also, Velka shenanigans from the get-go!**

* * *

It was abnormally cold this night. A dim moon obscured by oppressive clouds cast scant light on what could have been once an idyllic hamlet, complete with a stylized keep and church. It was only ruins now. All was still, as though no life remained. A statement nearly true.

The screech of bone-like metal upon cold stone resounded, echoing in the frigid air. The tall figure clad in white fur robes dragged it's bare feet, lulling to and fro pulling a wicked ebony scythe behind by a single hand, gouging long and deep scratches in the frosted stone. Deep and heavy panting produced small clouds of steam that cooled and caked the frame of white hair surrounding the figure's face with a fine dusting of frost and ice. Shuddering and heaving a labored sigh, it fell to it's knees.

It began to sob quietly, in a gentle, weak but melodious voice.

"A lie..."

The shifting clouds allowed light to pass, revealing the seemingly pure white was instead stained.

Blood.

Blood of various shades soaked the arms, lap, and face of a decidedly feminine figure. In places it frosted over, in others it was still slick but rapidly cooling. The scythe loosely held in the left hand with it's blade trailing behind was still wet, indeed still steaming from the freshness of the blood. The blood didn't belong to the figure in question.

"It's a lie!"

This time the voice was raised, cracking near the end.

The figure and voice belonged to an abomination. A being whose existence was deemed an insult and travesty. Whose continued existence seen as a threat. With the world finally becoming too much for it to bear, sent itself into self exile. For the protection of itself and the world at large.

It, more appropriately she, is known by the moniker Cross Breed Priscilla. A creature whose birth is shrouded in mystery, the details known only by the Mad Duke Seathe, a scaleless dragon who betrayed his own kind and may possibly be her progenitor. The only other, the eccentric witch goddess Velka, who may have had a hand in her creation, but acted in the background as a patron of sorts for the forbidden child. Her motivations for her support were as much a mystery as Priscilla's birth.

In her self-exile to the Painted World of Ariamis, Priscilla had become comfortable in her existence. Indeed, her comfort was in part due to the inhabitants of the land, for they were peaceful and kind. It was made better after an untold amount of years when a singular man appeared in her home. The man, his name long forgotten even by himself, was known soon after as the Chosen Undead. After initial tensions being dispelled, he would return to visit the exile. He regaled her with stories of his travels, his friends, his conquests over demons and beasts. It was when he revealed his purpose that genuine hope and a desire to live in the outside world returned.

He was to be king. This man's quest was to replace the failing legacy of Lord Gwyn and restore light and warmth to the darkening and cooling world. With this news, Priscilla gave him her blessing and eagerly awaited news of victory and the prospects of walking once more on verdant fields of grass under the warm light of the sun.

It was not to be, however. For it was all a lie.

The man did not lie. No, it was all a lie by omission by those that manipulated the poor man. It was but a few hours since Priscilla had chosen to break her exile in search of the man when what she guessed were months had passed without him returning as he normally would. Sure, she found the world had been restored, the sun shone bright and warm, and life flourished once more. But her friend and eventual confidant had become sacrificial kindling for the flames of the Kiln. He was now a charred, hollowing corpse, writhing in agony. And there was nothing Priscilla could do for him. So she returned to her world within the painting.

Upon returning, in the lucidity granted by her sobering discovery, she realized another lie.

The inhabitants of her land were not peaceful. They were not kind. She was not comfortable. Nor was she happy.

In her delusions and, indeed, madness. She had lied to herself.

So she slaughtered them all. The hollows, the undead Xanthous King Jeremiah, the zombified dragon, and even the crow hybrids, the former worshipers of Velka that had taken refuge within the painting.

It was but a small mercy she had granted them in their madness and empty existence. So now she all but bathed in their blood.

"It was...," she sniffled pathetically, "a big lie..."

Slowly she looked up to the false heavens of the painting. The moon had finally been freed of the interference of clouds, revealing the dull and eerie red hues of a lunar eclipse, a blood moon. Reaching into her robes with her right hand she grasp at the smooth wooden doll her late friend returned to her so long ago. The doll she lost when she wished upon it for her escape into exile.

Once more she clutched tightly to the doll as though it were her only protection from a non-existent threat. Once more she wished, desperately in her sorrow and madness, under the light of the blood moon.

"Please...I don't want to be alone anymore..."

She closed her eyes, choking back tears. She didn't expect an answer. She didn't really expect anything but silence and the accompanied nothingness.

But instead, a flutter of wings followed by a biting cold wind on her body.

She opened her eyes to find a clear starless sky. Two moons shared the inky blackness, the smaller of the two slowly edging out from eclipsing the other. And then there was a beastly screech that pierced the air.

* * *

Tabitha had known it would be too good to be true.

This was to be her final task, the final mission given to her by her uncle. Upon completion, her mother would be released to her and she would even be allowed to continue to attend the Academy of Magic, summon herself a familiar, and possibly live the rest of her life in relative peace. But alas, this was just another of her uncle's games. This time she was tasked with hunting a particular infamous rake that wandered the snow wastes of the northern Germanian border, further than any territory familiar to her. Apparently the drake had an artifact within itself that her uncle desired greatly, but in hindsight Tabitha should have noticed the smirk upon the face of that hated woman Sheffield that was always by her uncle's side.

She wondered if her uncle finally grew tired of the manipulation and attempted emotional torture he conducted on her. Or perhaps her mother had finally passed on and he realized he no longer had any hold over her due to that.

It didn't matter though. She had determined that this would be her final mission regardless. Exhausted of her willpower by combat and sapped of her physical strength by the environment, it was all too late when a previously withheld bit of information became apparent to her.

Her target had a family. A large and incredibly angry family that had begun to relentlessly pursue her through the wasteland with the sole intent of tearing her apart limb from limb and most likely consuming her still warm corpse in retaliation.

Throughout the pursuit she had begun to truly believe that the Founder had abandoned her. After all, her heritage as a mage had done nothing but provide her with misery. It robbed her of her mother, robbed her of her childhood, and now it most likely robbed her of her very life. Her magic had dug her grave and left her at the bottom with no way out. She had half a mind to laugh at the commonly said praises to Brimir and utter her own curses in response.

Lacking the strength to trudge along further without the aid of magic, and her willpower too depleted to fuel said magic, she finally fell prey to an environmental hazard she had feared the most at the moment. She sank to her waist in a hidden soft snow drift, effectively ensnaring the young woman and allowing her pursuers to catch up and surround their prey.

Breathing heavily, beads of sweat crystallized along her face as she shivered in the bitter cold, she slowly rotated in place to observe her current situation. With her hopes for an opening quickly dashed as the Ice Drakes that composed of the deceased drake's family effortlessly stomped through the soft powder, achieving complete encirclement. The wingless breed of drakes native to the northern wastes were adept at traveling across the dry snow with their webbed feet that acted like snow shoes.

The largest of the pack, the one Tabitha guessed to be the mother, broke the circle. Slowly stomping forward until it was only a few feet in front of the diminutive mage. A toothy and sinister 'smile' crept onto the drake's face, displaying a feral hunger as it gnashed repeatedly as in sniffed the air before the girl.

Tabitha had resolved not to succumb to any intimidation, she would die standing and unflinching.

As a proud warrior.

Her only concession was to look up to the sky rather than the predator. It was then she noticed a rare sight, the eclipse of the larger moon by it's companion, dyeing the sky a deep violet hue.

_'Fitting? Perhaps...'_

Lowering her gaze, she found the mother drake reared up onto her hind legs. It too turned it's gaze to the heavens, but instead of taking in the beauty of the sky it let out a bestial scream of victory, announcing to the world that her prey had surrendered.

_'Yes, this must be it. This is finally the end of me?'_ Tabitha let out a breathy sigh. _'I regret not being able to see mother one more time...and not thanking Kirche for her friendship...'_

Tabitha closed her eyes and bowed her head, tears that froze almost instantly welled up in the corners of her eyes. For the first time in years she had shown emotion. Unfortunately it was to a beast out for blood and in acceptance of her own imminent demise.

_'I just wish it weren't like this, and not alone...I...don't want to die alone...'_

She waited for the pain she imagined accompanied being bitten into by those massive jaws.

She waited.

Seconds passed without anything happening. The air was eerily still and silent. And then her front was splashed by warmth and a distinct metallic scent. Slowly Tabitha opened her eyes.

_'Blood!?'_

Before her, the snow was dyed red and melted under the heat of freshly spilled blood. Slowly bringing her eyes up she observed the still body of the mother drake, standing above her mid-lunge. Through her skull protruded a long black blade that entered the crown and exited the soft underside of the drake's massive maw. The blade belonged to a massive scythe. Shifting her sight to follow the shaft to find the wielder of said scythe, she was stunned by what she saw.

Green-amber eyes shimmered in the dim moonlight, almost with a light of their own. The eyes belonged to a woman of rather large proportions, clad in what was once pure white fur robes that were now stained apparently multiple times over by the crimson of blood. In place of eyebrows, the woman had what looked to be soft scale-like protrusions and behind her slowly swayed a tail covered in the same white fur of her robes.

The woman looked first at the mother drake. Her face only shown a faint, almost disinterested disgust. She dislodged her scythe with a resounding crunch, causing the younger child drake to back away slowly in fear. The woman then turned to look directly into Tabitha's own blue eyes. The glare was piercing, but shown no hints of disgust that were there for the drake. Rather, within the glare was a curiosity shared by Tabitha.

Within those green-amber eyes Tabitha recognized something else.

Madness.

Yet it was a madness quite unlike her uncle's. In fact it was one she herself courted many times in the past. It was one born and fueled by solitude, sorrow, and despair.

The young woman's strength finally began to falter as she started to succumb to exhaustion and the cold.

The last thing she seen with her failing vision was the larger tailed woman flicker a moment in a puff of snow, reappearing once more with a fresher coat of red and several heads belonging to the young drakes slowly slide off their necks. The woman in white's eyes never left Tabitha.

The last thing Tabitha thought as she fell forward, _'Beautiful...'_

The final thing she felt was not the cold of the snow, but rather warmth accompanied by something soft and fluffy that had the scent of blood and a hint of musty sweat.


	2. Chapter 2: Harvest Moon, Waning Gibbous

**A/N: Argh, I forgot doesn't play well with fonts and formatting, so I had to make due with shitty google translate to simulate the language barrier. Enjoy the absolutely horrible French and German, they're not there for literal translation, just the vague meaning.**

Priscilla poked idly at the crackling campfire. Her body ached from not only the previous combat in her painted world and in this unfamiliar land but from building the make shift camp in the middle of a veritable frozen wasteland. She had dug into the snow deep enough to reach the earth beneath, hunted for enough wood of quality good enough to fuel a fire, but also salvaged what she could from the bodies of the slain drakes. She stretched to alleviate the soreness in her arms, the digging had been the most difficult especially since she tried to create a barrier against the wind in an otherwise flat area.

She sighed, briefly wondering why she went through all that trouble when she herself was largely immune to the cold and could even consume the raw flesh of the drakes if she needed to sate her hunger. The stirring of a small human currently wrapped tightly within the embrace of her tail reminded her why.

When the human seemingly lost consciousness Priscilla's curiosity finally won over caution. After all, she had already dealt with the pitiful excuse for dragonkin. Despite her heritage as part dragon, she held no love for them or their offshoots. Even going so far as not having any qualms about outright killing them and treating them as one would any other animal, dressing them off and using them as food and a versatile resource. Any arguments about cannibalism would be promptly ignored. Now the human on the other hand presented something new to her.

At first Priscilla thought her senses were being tricked when she couldn't recognize the telltale signs of an undead, most notably the smell. The smell of an undead, or rather the hollowing of one, was distinctly different from that of the rot of actual dead and it seemed that only those with particularly sensitive senses could detect it. Upon closer inspection, she seemed to lack the darksign anywhere it would normally appear. All signs seemed to suggest this human was a genuinely living human. Something Priscilla up until now had never encountered, even during the relatively brief years of childhood she spent in the Duke's Archives or the Princess's Cathedral.

It was this realization that brought forth a rather important tidbit of information the Chosen Undead shared with her about the differences between the Living and the Cursed. The Living are much more fragile, and one of their greatest weaknesses would be nature itself. The little human most likely had been chased relentlessly by the drakes and her clothes clung to her due to being soaked by sweat and melted snow. The exhaustion combined with the freezing cold would spell her doom for sure.

Finding that the little one's lips had started to gray and she no longer shivered were telltale signs of what the Chosen Undead called hypothermia. It was then that she set to work making the camp. When it was complete and a fire was roaring in it's center, she laid out her robes as a sort of flooring after scraping out the caked blood. She then stripped the young human of her clothes to clean them and allow them to dry on a makeshift bone rack near the fire. Priscilla then wrapped the girl in her tail in hopes that her natural body heat and insulating fur would warm the suffering human safely.

It seemed to work well enough. Color returned to the girl's body as various points on her body began to flush pink as blood began to flow but not turn the angry red signifying damage. She moved her tail slightly to reveal the little one's face.

Priscilla couldn't help but crack a smile at the rather innocent looking sleeping face. She flinched as she caught herself as she felt the urge to pet the blue hair affectionately.

_'Wait...what am I doing?'_ She recoiled.

She wondered why she even bothered saving the human. Sure, she was curious about meeting a genuine living human, but was it worth the effort she put forth nursing the incapacitated girl a safe state? Before she could come up with an answer to her own question, the subject of her confusion stirred once more. This time she made incomprehensible murmurs as she grasped as Priscilla's tail, lifting her head enough to allow it to bob slightly in fevered grogginess.

Priscilla froze in place as the little human's blue eyes slowly focused on her face. Those same eyes widened as their owner's mind caught up with her. Whatever went through the little one's head caused her to spring up and stagger to her feet, flashing a serious, possibly angry glare at Priscilla. The glare was soon replaced by a look of confusion as she noticed the Cross Breed's state of undress, then a shudder as the chilly air signaled her own nakedness. A furious blush unlike the blush from before burned brightly on the girl's cheeks as she stumbled back onto her bottom and backed away, attempting to protect her modesty in the process. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth narrowed into a small frown as she regained composure.

"Qu'as-tu fait!?" The girl said softly, accusation lacing the tone.

Priscilla blinked.

"Qu'as-tu fait!?" the girl repeated eyeing Priscilla with a hint of disgust.

"What?" Priscilla tilted her head in her furthering confusion.

_'I suppose we do not speak the same language then?'_ The Cross Breed pondered.

The girl slowly took in her surroundings, not letting Priscilla out of her sight for long. Upon noticing her drying clothes and the cooking meat on a spit about the fire, she relaxed significantly. Though not completely as she kept a guarded posture.

"Vous me avez aidé?" Her expression softened slightly.

Priscilla arched a scaly eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, human. I can't understand a word you say," she nervously scratched the back of her head as the girl deadpanned at the reaction.

* * *

She wasn't sure if she should consider the strange woman her savior or a potential threat...or both at once. She was still unsure whether or not the woman had done anything untoward while she was unconscious. From the rather passive demeanor of the woman and her own condition, it started to seem unlikely. It was a shame that she couldn't understand a word the woman said.

"Es tut mir leid , Mensch. Ich kann ein Wort, das Sie sagen, nicht verstehen," the woman nervously scratched the back of her head in response to Tabitha's latest set of questions.

_'Maybe she really did just help me. My clothes are over there drying, she was cooking something, and I was wrapped up in ...her...tail?' _Tabitha deadpanned as she begun trying to determine just what this woman was.

_'Some sort of sub-human? A beastman? Maybe even something supernatural?'_ in the midst of her thoughts Tabitha neglected to remember that she was naked...with her back to a wall of snow.

The chill finally made itself know as Tabitha bolted back to her feet, teetering on her toes as she shivered once more. Her extremities burned, her muscles ached, and her head felt feverish. The warmth of the woman's tail and the scent of cooking meat sure seemed alluring at the moment.

The woman blinked for a moment before letting out a nervous laugh, her tail thumping lightly as she moved herself into a cross legged position. She patted the base of her tail, attempting to beckon Tabitha to it.

The gesture seemed innocent and well meaning enough, if the awkward attempt at a disarming smile was anything to go by. Too bad it was a fanged smile, which put Tabitha on guard once more.

Realizing that Tabitha had no intention of accepting the invitation, the strange woman flashed what seemed to be an annoyed pout.

"Oh, komm schon! Dir nicht kalt?"

Tabitha backed away slowly on her tiptoes. The act of doing so must have triggered some sort of predator instinct, or so Tabitha thought, since the strange woman all but pounced at Tabitha. A brief, pathetic struggle ensued as a still weak Tabitha was picked up at her armpits and forcibly placed on the lap of the larger woman and then promptly wrapped up in a massive blanket of fluffiness. Just as Tabitha made to pull herself from the furry prison, a chunk of grilled meat found it's way into her flailing hands. Stunned, Tabitha looked up to find her assailant grinning in satisfaction.

"Ich gewinne diesmal kleinen menschlichen!" She giggled.

Tabitha narrowed her eyes.

"Fine, you win...for now...," she conceded, as she nibbled at the meat, testing it.

_'Wait...where did this meat come from?' _Tabitha froze mid-bite.

Deciding that it'd be better not to know, she ignored the thought and began to veraciously gnaw at the succulent chunk of flesh.

_'Don't care any more, tasty...'_

* * *

Having finally subdued her rather adorable charge, Priscilla was content in simply watching the blue haired human munch away at the poor excuse for food. She was never really confident in her ability to cook, since she never really needed to. The girl seemed to be satisfied enough with it at least.

Content Priscilla may be, but satisfied she was not. The fact they could barely communicate bothered her. She resolved to fix that somehow. Minutes passed as the little one continued to devour the food and Priscilla could only draw a blank. In frustration she unknowingly let out a low growl, prompting the girl to look up again, alert and expecting.

"O-oh, it's nothing," Priscilla waved in dismissal, the girl seemingly getting the hint and returning to her eating.

_'Ah...oh, maybe...,'_ Priscilla smiled.

She tapped the shoulder of the girl, drawing her attention once more, though she continued to chew on the morsel she held in her hands.

"My name...Priscilla," she said cheerfully whilst pointing to herself.

The girl simply held up the chunk of meat, seemingly so that Priscilla could grab it.

"Ah! No...," the Cross Breed gently pushed it down before once more pointing at herself, "Prih-sill-ah..."

The girl's eyes widened in understanding. Then pointed a petit finger at Priscilla's face.

"Prih-sill-ah...Priscilla?" She said quietly.

Priscilla nodded. Then the girl pointed to her own face.

"Tah-bih-thah..."

Priscilla smiled widely then pointed back.

"Tah-bih-thah? You're name is Tabitha?"

The girl, named Tabitha, nodded curtly before turning back to her food.

"Un plaisir de vous rencontrer, Priscilla," Tabitha mumbled with a mouthful.

Priscilla hummed happily, satisfied with her small victory. Stifling a yawn, she stretched her arms before positioning herself onto her side, carefully keeping her tail wrapped around Tabitha.

_'I still have no idea what happened. Two moons? A lone living human...who seems to either be a child... or maybe she's the standard? No matter, as long as I'm not alone I'd make do with the company of anyone or thing sane. She at least seems to be.'_ Priscilla mused as she stared into the still roaring fire.

Priscilla allowed her heavy eyelids to close as she basked in the warmth. It had been years since she truly felt warm, since she never bothered due to being rather immune to the cold. She found it comforting, more so the heat radiating from the recovering Tabitha, who seemed to be studying her with eyes full of curiosity and suspicion. The Cross Breed cradled her head in her arms, looking once more with a single half open eye at her 'companion' she finally allowed herself to fall into a deep slumber.

* * *

Her hunger sated and her extremities no longer burning nearly as much as before, Tabitha found herself calm and lucid. She watched as the woman, who she understood to be named Priscilla, laid herself down and fall asleep. Taking advantage of the new slack in the Priscilla's tail, she pried herself out of the fluffy coil.

By the fading light of the faltering fire, Tabitha dressed herself quietly in her relatively clean and thankfully clothes. She silently thanked Priscilla for the thoughtfulness.

_'Either she must really be peaceful or she doesn't deem me a threat...,'_ she mused as she knelt on the balls of her feet in front of the larger woman.

She sighed as she fished out a small linen bag from a pocket hidden in her blouse.

_'This damned trinket,' _Tabitha frowned as she squeezed the bag, _'I should head back...'_

Her shoulders slumped in defeat at the thought of returning to Gallia even for a moment. Certainly it wouldn't be enough and she'd be sent out once more on a wild goose chase or outright suicide mission as usual.

As she turned to leave the relative comfort of Priscilla's camp, a soft murmur caught her attention. Half turning to face the source she found that Priscilla had curled into the fetal position and seemed to grasp desperately at the space in front of her.

"Bitte ... bitte ... Ich will nicht mehr allein sein..." she whimpered pathetically.

A wave of guilt washed over Tabitha upon hearing the incomprehensible words and taking in the vulnerable sight before her. She couldn't help but try to reach out to comfort the odd woman who seemed to be having a nightmare. Tabitha allowed the searching hand grasp her own. It was a weak and gentle hold that tugged the young mage towards Priscilla's chest. Positioning herself to sit with her back to Priscilla and her knees curled up to her own chest, she allowed the larger woman to encompass her once more. This time she was drawn in and surrounded by the entirety of Priscilla rather than just the tail.

_'Uncle can wait...'_

Tabitha felt herself drift off as Priscilla pulled her onto her side and nuzzled her face into Tabitha's hair. The pained murmurs ceased, replaced by the peaceful, gentle breathing of the odd pair.


	3. Chapter 3: Harvest Moon, Third Quarter

**A/N: And thus Tabitha receives a nickname from Priscilla. Also, we're getting close to were the source material's timeline actually starts, maybe next chapter or the following depending on how long i end up making it. Look forward to Springtime Summoning shenanigans soon.**

The 'morning' proved to be maliciously cruel to Tabitha. She had slept heavily within the embrace of the fluffy woman, long enough that the noon sun had risen to its apex. The light that shined reflected on the snow, only to be magnified by Tabitha's glasses that sat crooked on her nose. Rubbing her eyes with one hand she groggily batted away the sunlight, an act of futility if there ever was one.

Adjusting her glasses, Tabitha looked around in a brief moment of panic as memories of the previous night slowly emerged from her foggy mind. Finally she set a suspicious glare at the being she had been using as a pillow and blanket.

_'Oh...her,'_ Tabitha quietly sighed and shook her head, _'I should get going before she wakes.'_

Deciding caution over this weird creature was more prudent than the risk she'd be taking in trying to be friendly with it, she attempted to pull herself free of the fluffy one's grasp. Each attempt preempted by a tightly held grip and tug that put her back into place. Tabitha looked around once more, annoyance creeping into her facial features as her eyebrow twitched. The beast-lady had taken to snuggling her tightly while sucking her thumb innocently.

_'Really now?'_ Tabitha resumed her search for an escape.

It hadn't taken long for her to notice her cloak and staff just barely within arm's reach, a plan formulating within her head.

A faint grin formed on Tabitha's face.

* * *

Priscilla let out a fierce yawn. She never before slept so soundly before, at least not that she could remember. Opting to bury her face into her right arm as her left held her cute captive...captive, she snuggled in closer.

_'Hmm? When did she clothe herself?'_ She wondered as she felt the slightly coarse fabric of the little one's cloak, _'wait...why does she feel...cool?'_

Priscilla pulled the cloaked girl closer, determined to remedy any recurrence of the little girl's near death experience with freezing. Holding the girl tighter, Priscilla-

**SQUISH**

-bolted upright in fear as she felt everything within the cloaked bundle give under her grip. Dropping the bundle on the ground, it flattened to reveal it was actually empty save for melting snow. Priscilla stared at the bundle in confusion, blinking repeatedly.

_'Oh...that...,' _Priscilla's eyes narrowed as she grinned a fanged grin, _'clever little kitten!'_

She didn't know why she felt like she had to find the little human, nor did she wish to know. She honestly didn't want to lose her only (relatively) non-hostile and (most likely) sane companion she'd had in ages. It didn't matter if they couldn't understand each other, they at least figured out each others names...right? This wouldn't be construed as being rather possessive would it? Certainly not with complete stranger, right?

Priscilla tilted her head, fighting back the urge for internal monologue and dismissing the feeling that she may have or will in the future cross some line. She instead chose to convince herself it was all for the safety of the little human, since it must not be all that safe out here. Considering what she encountered the previous night, she nodded in confirmation of her own conclusion.

Replacing her half-dry robes and shrugging them in place, she shook the snow that still clung to the edges. She pulled the Life-hunt Scythe from the snowbank she left it embedded the previous night and heft it over her right shoulder so that the blade dangled over the left side of her back. She rubbed the girl's cloak between her thumb, index, and middle fingers of her left hand. An eyebrow shot up as Priscilla noticed something. Tentatively, she brought the cloak to her nose, sniffing lightly.

_'Hmm?'_

The other eyebrow joined it's companion as Priscilla smiled, taking a deep breath into the cloak. The smile turned into a smug grin.

"Not clever enough, my kitten, " Priscilla chirped.

She closed her eyes and sniffed at the air. The faint scent from the wet cloth wasn't much to go by, but the lack of smells in this snowy wasteland (aside from that of decaying drake flesh) made picking out an equally faint trail somewhat easier.

Priscilla giggled as she disappeared in a puff of snow.

* * *

Tabitha quickly regretted leaving her cloak behind. It wasn't a matter of staying warm, since the wind was broken by the trees of the forest she had taken refuge in. Nor was it a matter of shielding herself from the blinding rays of the sun, which were also interrupted by the shade of the forest. No, it was actually the fact that the small book, the only one she had taken with her, was tucked inside one of the many inner pockets of the cloak.

What would she do now that she had put sufficient distance between herself, the weird creature, and the territory of any still living drakes? She had made wonderful time, after all, her willpower had been restored enough to make her trek across the snow easy and swift. By the time her stomach growled to signal dinner time she could already see one of the many border villages that dotted the Tristain – Germania border.

_'I wonder...should I visit the Zerbst Estate? It shouldn't be too far from here...,' _Tabitha frowned, _'No, I have to hurry. I doubt Kirche would be there anyway. Classes should be starting soon, so she'd at least be on the way to the Academy...I think...'_

Tabitha trudged through the powder that lined the forest floor until she found a rather well kept road. Well, what would pass as well kept for a road during the start of a Tristanian spring anyway. Stepping lightly onto hard cobblestone that shown within a rut dug by a cart's wheel, she hissed as a stinging sensation spread across her feet from the impact.

She quickly fell to her bottom, leaning on the heels of her feet and massaging them through the soft sides of her shoes.

_'I can't believe I forgot...'_

She cursed herself for forgetting to actually heal what damage did occur from the previous night. She could feel her fingers sting and burn as well as she attempted to alleviate the pain in her feet. She cursed herself even more for not hearing the sound of boots behind her.

"Hey, ye alright girl?" A tall, fit man with graying hair startled her.

The man carried an ax that he held over his shoulders, resting his hands over the long handle. His deep brown eyes scanned her person in concern. Behind the man a boy that couldn't be more than a couple years younger than her dragged a sled full of wood.

"What's up Pa?" The boy looked very much like his 'father', save for having light brown hair instead of gray.

"Ah think dis girl may be hurt," he looked over his shoulder only to quickly look back at Tabitha, "Ah ask again girl, ye alright?"

Tabitha unconsciously looked to her feet and then to the palms of her hands, the pain and tingling having not ceased.

"Hmm, Ah see, minor frost bite it looks like," the man leaned over Tabitha, looking intently at her hands, "Ye did well to keep em from getting bad, but ye really shouldn't be travlin like dis."

Tabitha couldn't deny his logic. Indeed as she was she'd only end up further injuring herself, undoing what good the weird furry lady did in preventing permanent damage. She believed she had the willpower to finish the healing, so she picked up her staff from the snow she dropped in moments earlier and begun the whispers of the healing spell she used ever so often...only to be interrupted as she felt herself being hoisted from the ground by an arm around her waist.

_'Oh come on! What is with people and picking me up all the time!?'_ She shot the old man an accusing glare.

"Easy girl, mah wif is a 'pothicary. Ah'll just carry ye over yonder, " the man pointed his ax to a small cabin on the far outskirts of the border town in the distance.

"Ma will patch you up good, don't worry," the boy chimed in with a wide smile, pushing passed Tabitha and his father with sled in tow.

Tabitha huffed and allowed her shoulders to sag at her fortune...or misfortune depending on how one looks at it.

* * *

Despite the outward appearance of a somewhat shoddily built shack, the interior completely betrayed Tabitha's expectations. Slate stone flooring covered in animal fur carpets, hard wood furniture, and a well built hearth that gave off a pleasant orange light and radiated a very welcome warmth.

"Jacob, take th' wood out back and chop it up, will ye? Ah'll git ye when dinner is done," the old man said as he placed his ax down by the door.

With Tabitha still under his arm, he walked towards the hearth.

"Dear! Ah got a pashint fer ye!" He yelled as he placed Tabitha as gently as he could on the fur carpet in front of the hearth.

The old man then plopped himself into a rocking chair that creaked under his weight as he kicked up his feet onto the hardwood table nearby.

A woman pushed her way through an animal hide that acted as a door to the next room. Her nearly black hair she kept in a ponytail had several strands of silver that did nothing to detract from her rather youthful face. She wore a set of pince-nez, an item no doubt expensive for commoners as most spectacles were. The woman glanced quickly at Tabitha giving her 'husband' a harsh glare as she took a long drag out of a long and narrow pipe she held in her right hand.

"Jacob...you didn't just drag her here like you did the other ones did you?" She breathed out a puff of smoke.

_'Father son are both Jacob? How original...but appropriate I suppose, considering...,'_ Tabitha alternated her stare in some amusement as the man blanched under his wife's glare.

"Ah did no such thing dear, right girl?" He looked to Tabitha in panic.

The woman looked to Tabitha with an appraising look. Seeing that the bluenette had no intentions of saying a word or doing anything really, the woman shrugged and sighed.

"Fine, what seems to be the problem?" The woman relented.

"Ah found 'er on th' road, nursing 'er feet and hands. Looked like she barely 'voided major frost bite," Jacob Sr. itched at her mop of gray hair in thought.

"Is that so? Would you mind if I took a look girl?" The woman knelt by Tabitha's side, placing the pipe in her lips and holding a hand out to Tabitha.

Deciding to play along, Tabitha placed her left hand in the woman's. A few seconds passed as the woman gently rubbed and turned over Tabitha's hand several time.

"Hmm, nothing really serious thankfully, any longer out there and it would be. Honey, you did good this time," she looked to her husband to find he had a wide smile of accomplishment on his face, "don't let it get to your head you dolt. Now, would you mind taking off your shoes, dear?"

Tabitha complied, with the lady doing the same as before. Though this time she had to hold back the ticklish sensations as the lady massaged her toes.

"A little worse, but nothing permanent. I wouldn't be walking around out there with those shoes of yours, or running around at all," once more she looked to her husband, "would you make yourself useful and mind the food while I take care of this young lady?"

The request was said with such authority that it may as well been an order as Jacob grumbled a reply as he stood from the chair and walked through the animal hide door.

The woman walked to a cupboard only a few feet away and began rummaging through it.

"I'm sure you could heal just fine with magic if you are that sort," Tabitha flinched as the woman returned with a couple rolls of cotton gauze that smelled odd, "but you have to understand, my husband and son are both such bleeding hearts. They'd be heartbroken if you walked away without being treated, so I appreciate you playing along as you have," her pipe bobbed up and down as she spoke.

Tabitha looked at the woman, wondering if she should say anything.

"They're both as bright as rocks, but oh so kind. Idiots, but they're my lovable idiots," she chuckled, "please hold out your arm dear, yes like that."

Tabitha held out her arm in front of her. The woman pushed up the sleeve and started wrapping up individual fingers in the gauze, then her hand itself, and finally the arm up to the elbow. She repeated this with Tabitha's other arm and then her feet and legs up to her knees.

"If you're wondering, I could tell you were a mage the moment I saw you. Used to work for one I did. The staff and expensive spectacles were also good give aways, not to mention no peasant girl would dare travel alone. So you must be experienced enough and strong enough with whatever you have to be alone like this," the woman sat beside Tabitha, puffing lightly at her pipe, "my name is Charlotte by the way."

Tabitha cringed at the name, unpleasant memories swarming her mind for a moment before she suppressed them. She remained silent.

"Hmm, a quiet one aren't you?" Charlotte the Apothecary quirked an eyebrow as she seemed to measure up Tabitha.

She then offered the pipe to Tabitha.

"Want some?"

Tabitha looked at the pipe and then at Charlotte in confusion.

"Go ahead, it isn't tobacco if you wondering. No? Suit yourself," the older woman shrugged and took a long drag out of the pipe.

Charlotte stood and straightened her clothes.

"Dinner should be ready soon. You are more than welcome to stay for it and the night if you wish. You won't have much luck in town since we don't have an inn, so I recommend it," she smiled at Tabitha before walking through the hide door, leaving Tabitha alone in front of the hearth.

Taking the chance to gather her thoughts, Tabitha first observed her surrounding before finally settling her stare at the hearth fire. The crackling of the wood and dancing flames were mesmerizing.

She wondered, is this what it would have been like if she were born a commoner. A kind but dim father and a bright, slightly eccentric mother? Would she have been an only child as Jacob Jr.? Or would she have been one of many children on a farm rather than to a woodsman and apothecary? Where all commoners this kind to strangers? Certainly not, but you'd be hard pressed to find such generous and caring nobles. At least in Gallia and most places in Tristania, that is for sure.

Once more she found herself with the urge to curse Brimir rather than praise him. It were these people that deserved a blessing rather than those of her peers. She even started to believe she herself didn't deserve the power that ran through her blood, or even want it for that matter. It seemed to have only caused her grief. She decided that she would take Charlotte's offer.

* * *

The dinner was hearty and the company pleasant. It was well into the evening as Tabitha sat once more before the hearth, this time a tin cup of fragrant tea in her bandaged hands. She had finally responded to Charlotte's prodding for conversation, though sparse her words were, she could tell Charlotte enjoyed having another female to talk to. Tabitha even caved in and accepted the pipe a couple times, leaving her coughing the first time as Charlotte laughed and her mind and body feeling slightly hazy and warm after the second time.

The men of the house had already turned in for the night, exhausted from a day of work in the woods. This left Tabitha and Charlotte to share a fur blanket by the hearth.

"I'm glad you decided to stay the night," Charlotte stared at the fire, her eyes seemed to have misted over.

Tilting her head,Tabitha couldn't quite figure out what had caused her companion to become so sedate. Noticing Tabitha's questioning look, Charlotte smiled weakly.

"We had a daughter, she'd be around your age actually. This past winter claimed her sadly," she sniffed idly and shifted her head just enough that Tabitha couldn't see her eyes, "there is only so much herbs, tinctures, and poultices can do for someone. It would have been enough if a water mage would have healed her as well, but the only one around refused."

Tabitha's heart sank. If only she had been around then. Was it a matter of months? Weeks? Or days that she had missed this.

"Why?" Tabitha asked meekly.

Charlotte sighed.

"Money. More than the combined income of myself and my husband for over a year. Strange that the procedure apparently needed no reagents or catalysts according to the merchants the noble normally dealt with."

_'What? That couldn't be more than a dot...at most a line class spell,'_ Tabitha could feel the fury well up in her when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"But, there really wasn't much we could do, right? Perhaps it was Brimir's will...," Charlotte lifted herself from the floor with some effort, joining her husband and son in the pile of blankets in the center of the room..

The words did little to settle Tabitha's contained fury. She wanted to know who this noble was that would outright deny such a simple cure to a girl with a deadly affliction. Wasn't it a noble's responsibility to protect the common people. Of course Tabitha knew this to be simply honeyed words the church and government would say to placate the masses, but sometimes she liked to believe it were true.

Minutes passed with Tabitha staring into the dying hearth fire. Besides the crackling of flames, she could hear the light breathing and snoring of the commoners behind her. It simply didn't feel right to stay any longer, feeling the guilt that should rightfully belong to another. She left what little coins she still had on her person on the hardwood table and left as quietly as she could, yet before the door could close completely she heard a whisper from within.

"If you must leave, I don't blame you. I wish you well, girl," Charlotte's faint voice seemed to carry in the cold.

Tabitha simply nodded as she pulled the door closed, it made a brief and small click as the mechanisms within slid into place, effectively locking her out.

It was a short walk into the small border town. Tabitha had little trouble navigating the streets under the rather bright moonlight of the quarter moons. Charlotte's words proved true as the town had no inn, not even a tavern. In her short search, she did find a small church dedicated to the Founder. Seeing as any shelter is good shelter, she pushed open the large wooden double doors.

They creaked open, revealing a single large open room lined with pews. At the front of the pews stood a statue depicting the Founder Brimir, with a small podium in front of that. Tall clear class windows lined each of the side walls, allowing the otherwise dark building to be lit from the outside. The doors creaked shut behind her.

Tabitha couldn't shake the feeling that despite being the only one inside, that she was being watched. Shrugging off the feeling she approached the statue of Brimir. It was customary to offer prayer within the Church of the Founder, especially when one is taking refuge within in.

Yet, Tabitha felt such a thing wasn't deserved. Before, when she was faced with death, it wasn't the blessings of Brimir that saved her, but what seemed to be an other worldly being. When she stumbled along the cobblestone road, hindered by her injuries, it wasn't the gifted nobles that picked her up. It was the common people, who opened their home and hearth without asking for anything in return.

Tabitha simply stood before the statue. Blankly staring at it. Moonlight shined brightly through the windows, highlighting the dust in the cold air. She turned her head to face the window.

"The moons..." her whisper rung crystal clear in the church.

It was within the eclipse of the moons that her savior appeared, and since then she had been only reminded of her own fragility and the fickleness of Brimir's chosen. It only seemed right that she should offer the prayer once reserved for the Founder to someone more deserving. To the creature brought to her by the moons and perhaps to the moons themselves. After all, she had received the blessing of another life from them.

She knelt, not to the statue of the man beloved by many, but rather to the red and blue moons that shimmered through the church's windows. So she prayed her thanks, not to Brimir, but to whatever being embodied the moons and the eclipse. A prayer she didn't believe would be received by any.

* * *

Priscilla stood just inside the large wooden doors of the church. She had followed the scent of the girl for the entire day, and finally caught up with her as she left the little cottage. Now she wasn't sure what to do as she witness the girl stand before a statue of a man for the better part of an hour, only to suddenly look out the window and then fall to her knees. The girls eyes were shut tight and her hands clasp together in prayer, her staff forgotten leaning on the podium.

She felt that perhaps she witnessed something profound as she too looked out the window at the moons. Smiling, she decided to join the girl. She always felt a strong connection with the moon of the Painted World and Lordran, and the moons of this world seemed to share that connection.

Little did she nor the girl know, the prayers did not fall upon deaf ears or nothingness. They were heard in full, and thus the beginnings of the covenant blossomed within them.


	4. Chapter 4: Harvet Moon, Waning Cresent

Leaves, underbrush, and scattered rays of penetrating sunlight rushed passed her as she ran. Her lungs burned, muscles ached, and heartbeat pounded and echoed in her head. She simply didn't know how far or how long she had been running, all that mattered was that her pursuers kept their attention on her.

She came to a stumbling stop before a massive tree, turning on her heels she leaned heavily against the ancient wood. The bark scraped at her back as she slid limply against it to the ground. She hissed at the pain and began to to take deep heaving breathes that caused her ample chest to rise and fall in an exaggerated fashion.

"Hah, hah, at least...hah...they got away...hah," she quietly said to no one in particular, weakness and fatigue lacing her voice.

She allowed a small and gentle smile grace her lips at her self-assurance. The orphans were her life, her love. She didn't understand why they had come to them in such numbers and force. Bandits usually seen little of value in them, and the few that sought them out only wanted her for their own perverse reason. They were dealt with easily enough with the ring left behind by her mother, which after but a single use would send them wandering aimlessly away with no knowledge of why they were there in the first place.

This time, however, the ring had been drained of its energies after a series of uses in quick succession. They simply kept coming.

She ran a hand through her bright blonde hair, which had become matted by sweat that dripped liberally from every protruding surface. Her hand came to a stop at her ear after realizing she had long since lost her sun-hat in her escape. Long and pointed, a symbol of her heritage.

_'Could...could they have known?'_ She thought as she furrowed her brows.

Any further deliberation on the matter came to an abrupt and violent halt as her ears twitched at an alarming sound.

**FWIP-THUNK**

Her eyes widened as a sharp pain radiated from her chest, just below the collarbone on her right side. Her breath was knocked out of her lungs from the impact, and her left hand shot straight towards the pain.

Gasping for breath, she slowly turned her head down to find the source of her agony as she probed it with a shaking hand.

An arrow shaft protruded from the area just above her right breast, it didn't move with her still heaving chest. Gripping it gently she tried to lean forward off the tree, only to find that it had passed cleanly through and had also embedded itself into the the wood behind her.

**FWIP-THUNK**

"Urk-" her pained cry was stifled by the lack of air as a second arrow punched through her left breast and straight through the lung behind it.

She could only whimper weakly as her vision alternated between clear and haze.

Seconds pass.

"HA! You're as good a shot as ever, brother!" A gruff voice sounded out midst the crunching of twigs and leaves of many feet.

"Honestly, I thought an elf would have put up much more of a fight. You know the stories right?" Another man responded.

She forced herself to lift her head, yet all she could see were the blurred forms of many men, the exact amount lost to her in the tear and pain hindered vision.

"W-why?" Her question escaped in a raspy low voice ending in a cough that brought up specks of blood form her mouth and nose.

"Oh? She still lives?" A third man answered, his only distinguishing feature in her hazed vision being what seemed like a staff. "No harm in indulging a dying woman's question I suppose."

The man came closer, which did little to improve her vision. Leaning in close to her face, he lifted her chin to look directly into her eyes.

"Simply put, we were sent to convince you to come with us," he said in a matter of fact tone.

"Th-then, wh-why?" Her left hand gripped tightly on arrow near her collarbone as she was wracked with a wave of pain.

"Why bother? You're a filthy elf. It would be better to simply kill you. I have no idea why anyone would want to meet you, but I believe we did them a favor," She could make out the malicious smile that crept onto his face as he pulled away, before he decided to kick shaft buried in her left breast deeper.

She couldn't even let out a cry of pain as the arrow was pushed fully through her back and into the tree. She simply clenched her eyes and teeth shut and waited for the wave of pain to subside.

The voices and footsteps of the men started to fade, but with her elven ears she picked out something that made her faltering heart skip a beat.

"Come on brother, I think I know where we can find those brats. Might as well put them out of their misery, being tainted by an elf and all," it was the first man, his voice full of mirth and verging on laughter.

_'No! No! No! Please, not the children!'_

"So-meo-ne...pl-ease...help..."

Unnoticed by the dying girl, a blue fog had gently rolled in behind her. Her failing senses never picking up the slow steps of light foot-fall.

* * *

It had felt wondrous to be connected once more with her old covenant. Decades, perhaps even centuries had passed since it was severed and usurped by the damned son of Gwyn. But here in this foreign and strange world she found herself in long ago, the link seemed to finally have clicked back into place several days ago. It was the night of the eclipse caused by the smaller moon over the larger that she felt it. Something that felt familiar from her home-world and something from this one had bridged the gap, and whether by design or accident had entered into the contract.

She had spent years in this world as a mortal would, nearly powerless, simply biding her time as she recovered from the exhausting escape from Lordran. She no longer had any reason to remain, her plans had never came to fruition and she had no desire to simply wait for those she was meant to punish to have their way. Having been born of resentment and sin, the goddess sought to punish the false gods for disrupting the natural order. In time this single purpose expanded and evolved, where she slowly became the judge, jury, and executioner in a world of mortals.

She stared at her gloved hands, repeatedly opening and closing them, the crunch of leather rather pleasant to her ears. Her mouth split into a satisfied grin, the joy in her eyes hidden by a silver domino mask. Long silken and straight black hair that reached her lower back flowed and swayed as she took her first experimental steps. The cloak that reached her ankles mirrored the flow of her hair, revealing the solid black clothing lined with silver threaded trim beneath.

She decided to find the source of the summoning, it had been so long since the purpose of her covenant had been triggered, let along she herself receive the calling. Then again, she was the only one within the covenant at this point within range anyway, since the two so far unknown members were many, many leagues away.

She reveled at the thought of meting out vengeance upon a sinner on behalf of the victim. Any moment now she should come across her target.

"Hmm?" She found herself standing before a great tree, which seemed to be the source of her calling.

Looking down, she came to see the slumped figure of a woman. Upon closer inspection, she had been pinned to the tree by a couple arrows. A painful and traumatizing way to die for sure, she noted. And then she noticed long and pointed ears.

"Not human I suppose...or at least not completely human," She mumbled to herself, realizing the blood smelled similar to that of a human's, but not quite an exact match.

A shuddering breath startled the goddess.

"Y-you live?" Though voiced as a question, it was more of a statement.

Kneeling before the woman, the goddess examined her further. She was not the sinner, in fact she was the very model of innocence if her aura was anything to go by.

_'So...this must be the victim...first time I've encountered one still breathing...'_

Thoughts flashed through the goddess's mind. Should she heal the woman? Certainly the miracles she had stolen out of spite could restore her body...but then again, as a mortal that bore no divinity and no dark sign, she doubted that it would do anything more than merely extend her suffering. Still, this was an opportunity she never had, the chance to know the mind of the victim that summoned her.

Pulling out a talisman composed of silver thread and a lock of her own hair, she cast a minor miracle upon the woman, just enough to restore some vitality and numb the pain.

The woman jerked her head up to face the goddess in shock. Tears and blood stained her face, telling a tale of deep sorrow.

"Your name?" The goddess asked, her voice clear and even.

"Tiff...," the woman took a rasping breath, "..ania..."

The goddess nodded, committing the name to memory.

"I...am dying...aren't I?"

"At the hands of another, left to suffer...yes," the goddess nodded slowly as she spoke.

"I...see...,then could...I ask a favor?"

The goddess nodded, the very idea she found amusing. Could this be the request for retribution? A declaration of hate for those that wronged her? What would someone as for while on death's doorstep?

"Please...," Tiffania shifted uncomfortable as the pain slowly began to return, "save...the children."

The goddess didn't react. Such a request didn't quite register as a possibility in her mind. In the past she had been summoned out of a desire for vengeance and retribution. Never did it occur to her that the victim could want anything else, after all it was only natural to lash out at what harms you. But then she was reminded of the aura of innocence. The goddess's mouth opened slightly in an expression of disbelief and curiosity. Could this woman truly be this pure? Pure enough that the thought of revenge never entered her mind, but instead was full of worry for the welfare of others?

Amusing. Intriguing. Exciting.

The goddess now sported a full smile, with pearly white teeth showing between pale pink lips.

"Ah, then I, the Goddess of Sin, Velka, shall grant you your final wish," Velka removed the domino mask, revealing bright piercing blue eyes.

"Th-ank...you...," Tiffania weakly spoke, blood now flowing freely from her mouth and nose with each breath.

"Now, sleep well child. You deserve the rest," Velka pressed her right hand to Tiffania face, forcing her to close her eyes.

Velka gripped her talisman once more, granting the dying woman a final mercy, one of the few miracles unique to the goddess herself. A nameless miracle she created to aid a whimpering half-breed child long ago, one that granted the gift of peaceful sleep.

"Thank...y-ou...," Tiffania gave the goddess a smile that was at odds with her condition as she slipped painlessly into a deep sleep, her head tilting off to the side.

Velka smiled even wider. It was different. So very different from the calls for revenge that were oh so plentiful in Lordran. She was the judge, the jury, and the executioner. But this time, she was called as none of those, but rather as a savior. She laughed. At first it was a giggle, and then a light laugh, until it finally erupted into full raucous laughter.

"How so amusing. This is a first, a pleasant and exciting first!" The goddess held her right hand over her face as she tilted her head back in her laughter.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she slowly faced the dying woman again.

"Oh, woe betide those that wronged you and yours, girl," Velka's smile changed from that of mirth, to that of cruelty and blood-lust, "For the hand of justice shall plunge a cold blade into their hearts!"

Velka replaced her domino mask as she stood and turned away. Closing her eyes, she concentrated. The world fell silent, save for only her own heart beat and the failing beat of Tiffania. In the distance she could hear the heart beat of many sinners as well as that of many innocents.

"Ah, so there they are...,"Velka turned her head towards the sleeping Tiffania, "take heart to know that your dying wish shall be fulfilled."

With those final words, Velka simply vanished. The blue fog that had permeated the area faded.

Tiffania finally passed on painlessly with a gentle smile on her face.

The sinners Velka sought would have no such luxury.


	5. Chapter 4B: A Dream within the Divide

**A/N: Wow, I should have expected the firestorm in my inbox. But, to those that haven't left, I present this to you. It's a snippet that goes along with Chapter 4 that was going to be released as a standalone project for when I finally get to finish Bloodborne. Yes, I intended to give Tiffa her own fic and expand on the whole moon thing. Some may have noticed how I've affiliated Velka and the Darkmoon with the moons in Halkegenia, well, there are after all TWO moons, and Velka only has an affinity to one.**

* * *

"Hrmm..."

Tiffania stirred in her slumber. The earth beneath her was cool and damp with dew, causing her to shiver slightly from the unfamiliar feeling.

"Wah!?" She bolted up, propping herself on her right elbow, her left hand grasping at her chest.

Groping experimentally at the area of her right shoulder and then again around her left breast, she heaved a deep sigh of relief. There was no pain, no blood, and most importantly...no arrows. In fact, her summer tunic was without even the slightest tear in the fabric, and the skin beneath was as smooth and unblemished as the day she was born.

But this all conflicted with her memory of being chased and then shot twice. She remembered coughing up blood and being pinned to the tree. She remembered the men mocking her and then leaving to chase down the orphans.

A wave of panic washed over Tiffania at the thought of the children. The panic was quickly squashed as the memory of the woman in black returned soon after. It was hazy, but just as real as any other memory. She remembered the fog, the odd sense of ease when the woman spoke to her. And then finally the relief when she swore to save the children in her place. And then she remembers the woman placing a hand to her eyes and bidding her a good night. And then nothingness.

"But...wait...then I should be...," she gulped.

Realization dawned upon her as she finally took in her surroundings. She had be laid in a field of somewhat tall grass with intermittent clusters of white flowers as well as the occasional odd headstone.

"Where...am I?" She asked meekly to no one in particular.

She slowly stood, brushing off the dirt from her tunic. It was quiet, only a silent cool breeze that tousled the grass and smelled as though it signaled a coming rainstorm accompanied her. In the distance a thick fog impeded her sight as she walk aimlessly forward.

This place was a complete mystery to Tiffania. It was unlike anything she'd seen in Albion. Despite the nation's notoriety for fog and rain, it never once had come to this state of being. She continued to walk, looking around for any signs of life. Such signs eluded her as even her sensitive ears failed to find anything. In her concentration she failed to notice her footing, taking a step to find that there was no earth beneath her. In panic she flailed for something to prevent herself from falling, finding a handhold on an old wrought-iron fence that seemed to continue a few feet out into the foggy abyss.

_'What?'_

Taking a moment to allow her heart to calm itself, Tiffania realized that she never noticed the fence until just then. Feeling silly for missing such a thing and almost stepping into nothing in her preoccupied state, she giggled nervously. Peering into the fog while using the fence to brace herself she noticed that here light could be seen in the distance through the fog. The light silhouetted massive spires with what seemed to be cloth tied to them that blew in a wind she didn't feel. Looking down caused her to back away in reflex. She couldn't see the bottom through the thickness of the fog, but something told her in the back of her mind that it'd be a long while until she found it if she were to fall.

Backing away from the edge, she followed the wrought-iron fence. In a matter of minutes she found that the fence had begun to turn to her right and come to the edge of a path of stone steps. Along the steps she found even more of the odd headstones set up at irregular intervals.

"Hmm, so...I should be dead..." she brought a finger to her lips in thought.

The land from before seemed to extend and curve into what could possibly be an island. A rather small one at that. There seemed to be no inhabitants and she couldn't think of any possible was she'd end up from her forest home on the main island of Albion to some remote deserted one.

Sifting through her thoughts for possibilities, she found several plausible ones, but shot them down in quick succession.

She couldn't be in the heaven of Brimiric Founderism. This was hardly a paradise and she certainly wouldn't be alone. It wasn't the opposing hell either. It wasn't anything like the many Elven afterlives and she was certain she hasn't been reincarnated since that would require herself to be reborn.

Was she in purgatory?

She had followed the stone steps upward, lost in thought. She once again found a ledge that fell into the abyss, thought this time she had the presence of mind not to almost fall. Yet here it seemed there was a series of stone walls to her left and several headstones in a tight group to her right. In between the two, the path would have lead upwards.

A low rumble startled Tiffania as earth and finely cut stone rose and added itself to the continuation of the path and the land surrounding it.

That cemented the idea that she certainly wasn't within the realm of the living, since to her astonishment she felt no magic behind the phenomenon. The land seemed to be building upon itself.

Once more silence dominated the air, though something tickled Tiffania's ears. A faint sound that was familiar to her, something she heard and took comfort in hearing every night back at the orphanage. The gentle sound of breathing.

She slowly looked around for the source of the breathing, eager to finally find someone in this lonely and desolate place. Her search brought her to a patch of tall grass on a low wall that seemed to hold an overgrown flowerbed. Moving closer, she peeked hesitantly whilst on her toes above the wall and grass.

There laying peacefully as though laid to rest was a woman in a rather old fashioned dress and a lady's hood tied beneath her chin. However, Tiffania's excitement was extinguished as she looked at the hands laced together on the woman's chest. There she seem the telltale ball joints of an antique doll. Perhaps the breathing was a figment of her imagination.

Despite her disappointment, Tiffania smiled. At least there was something to keep her company. If this was purgatory, then she would have to wait for her fate to be decided by the powers that be. Perhaps whoever was her judge was simply not ready for her sudden arrival, thus the incompleteness of this place.

Without a second thought Tiffania climbed up the short wall and crawled to the side of the life-like doll. Turning around she let herself lean against the other stone wall now behind her. Smiling gently at the doll she imitated it, allowing herself to relax in a slumped sitting position with her hands interlaced across her chest.

"I suppose I'll take a nap. I'm still rather tired from before...I hope whoever this place belongs to doesn't mind," she sighed as she closed her eyes and wiggled a bit to get comfortable.

It wasn't long until she fell into a deep slumber, her body losing balance and sliding to the right, placing her head upon the doll's shoulder.

The doll's eyes shot open...the doll yawned...then the doll looked at Tiffania's sleeping face and tilted it's head in confusion.


	6. Chapter 5: Hunter's Moon, New

**A/N: So I'm slowly trying to break out of a massive writer's block. I believe I've made some headway, but this chapter was going to be much too long if I kept going, so I'm splitting it up. The next part shouldn't take too long since I feel I've gotten over a big roadblock of a sort in the story. Also, look forward to a couple one-shots/pilot stories in the same vein as "She is Her Mother's Daughter". I find them rather therapeutic to write.**

* * *

"Hnnng..."

Tabitha curled up in discomfort as sunlight shimmered through the tall windows of the church, slowly encompassing her body and finally her face.

"Just...five more minutes...," she mumbled softly as she brought her slightly coarse blanket over her head.

The previous day and subsequent night had taken a toll on the young mage, her sore body, and surprising ability to sleep on the uncomfortable church pew would attest to that. What few thought that ran through her mind flowed like syrup as she edged consciousness once more.

_'Wait...'_

She poked her head from under her cover, just enough for her unadjusted eyes to peak out to look at said covers. After blinking in confusion for a moment, she processed the object through half-lidded eyes.

_'This is...,'_ she rubbed the fabric curiously between her fingers, _'...familiar...'_

A light thump alerted her and brought her attention to the floor in front of the pew, pulling her glasses from their resting spot and placing them on her face. A small brown book had fallen from the fabric draped over her. Leaning over the edge of the seat she attempted to focus of the gold embossed title. It was a title she recognized immediately. Her favorite, in fact, since the tales of Ivaldi had often brought her comfort during her long and often dangerous travels. She stared at the book as seconds passed with no movement and her own thoughts halted momentarily.

_'Why would...,'_ she propped herself upon her right elbow and alternating between pinching her nose and rubbing her eyes.

She fought with her aching eyes and pained body to think through the fog in her mind. The cloth, the book, it didn't make sense. She had no blanket, she lost her book. Yet she recognized the 'blanket' as her cloak, and the book as the one she carried at all times within it. Both had been left as a sacrifice to distract the big fluffy lady.

The realization caused Tabitha to further attempt to focus, her inability to bring herself to a fully wake state irritating her greatly. Weakly, she turned her head in to and fro in paranoia, a slight bob in the movement.

She let a faint grunt of relief as her eyes finally began to adjust to the morning light. Still leaning forward over the edge of the pew, her eyes finally rested on a massive white figure. Only a few feet away, slumped over against the statue of Brimir was a great mass of white fur cradling the sinister looking black scythe.

_'Huh...,'_ Tabitha blinked.

It took a second for the discovery to process in the still leadened mind of the exhausted girl, which triggered a flurry of thought as both mind and body tensed and focused at the realization. Further tensing as the body realized that its weight had shifted far to forward before the mind could tell it to catch itself. Tabitha rather unceremoniously tumbled face first onto the old and worn wooden floorboards, causing a short series of loud thumps to echo throughout the church.

Yet, the commotion Tabitha caused seemed not to end, but rather repeat itself with the added finale of the tang of metal vibrating.

Slowly turning her head up from her new vantage point on the ground with her legs still somehow firmly placed above her on the pew, she adjusted her glasses, thankful they didn't break from the fall.

Priscilla sat there, still leaning against the statue, whimpering and rubbing the back of her smarting head. Tabitha's commotion had in turn startled the fluffy giant enough to cause her to bolt upright, slamming her head into the statue and flinging her scythe which was cradled in her arms with the blade resting against the statue to the floor. It had actually fell with such force to embed the blade completely to the shaft.

Tabitha opened her mouth to admonish the furry woman for following and surprising her, yet no words escaped Tabitha's lips. Not from anger, not from pain, but from morbid curiosity as she watched the head of Brimir slowly slide from the statue and drop to the floor in a dull thunk.

Both mage and giant stared blankly at the head in silence. After several minutes of silence, Priscilla slowly stood, picking up the head as she did so. She carefully placed the head upon the cleanly cut stump where it belonged with a face of determined concentration. It simply rolled off the side with a resounding thud. She tried again, this time her hands shook. Once more it fell. Tabitha simply watched as the fluffy woman continually attempted to undo her damage, only to fail time and again and becoming further flustered with each failure. In frustration, Priscilla slammed the head in place, hoping the impact would cement the pieces together. Instead the head shattered.

Priscilla slowly turned to Tabitha. Her face was bright pink, eyes holding tears that welled up in the corners, and her bottom lip was quavering.

Tabitha gathered her wits about her, silently drawing herself to her feet. Ignoring the urge to burst out into laughter at the ridiculousness of Priscilla's reaction to the mess around her, the mage maintained an even expression as she took in the embarrassing sight.

_'Well...I suppose she may not be an intentional threat...dangerous, but not a threat...,'_ Tabitha let out a faint sigh as her shoulders slumped, _'and somehow she keeps getting reactions out of me...annoying...'_

Replacing her now recovered cloak about her shoulders and checking to ensure her treasured book was safe within, Tabitha decided to make a hasty retreat from the church. She hoped the furry woman would take the hint from the cold shoulder and leave her be...or at least remain unseen in public.

Making it to the doors, Tabitha began to push them open when she heard the soft pats of bare feet behind her getting louder.

_'Oh please don't follow me...,'_ she grit her teeth.

She then felt a hand grasp her left shoulder. She turned to face the woman with an icy stare that would hopefully discourage her only to find another hand holding her staff and a shy nervous smile behind it.

"Uh...," stupefied, Tabitha grasped the offered staff, "thank you."

With that she pushed her way out into the sunlight, stepping into the now wet snow which let out a delightful squish with each step.

Signs of spring that she hadn't noticed the day before in the wastes of Germania had seemed to be prevalent within the border town, with even the air itself seemingly warmer than it had been the previous day. Tabitha stopped to look back, curious if Priscilla had decided to follow. Seeing nothing behind her, Tabitha decided to continue on her way only to stop once more when the sound of squishing snow produced by her footsteps seemed to have an echo sometimes. Looking back once more to see nothing, she shifts her sight to the snow. More specifically her tracks.

There she seen that while the freshest steps were still shaped like her shoes, albeit already starting to expand in the melting snow, the older tracks were significantly larger and misshapen.

_'Clever...,'_ she chose to ignore it, thankful that Priscilla at least won't cause a fuss in public.

Though Tabitha wondered what to do when she made it to Gallia proper and reported on her mission. What if the woman that followed her decided to keep following her all the way 'home'?

The town seemed rather active, bustling with people going about their business. Yet an oddity that caught Tabitha's attention was the overall flow of traffic was horribly skew towards a particular section of the town center. Normally commerce and traffic in general would be much more dispersed and varied during the mid-day as opposed to the movement inward in the morning and outward in the evening for such a small town. Curiosity won over her desire to leave and she found herself heading towards the largest concentration of traffic.

* * *

Priscilla deemed it both a triumph and a failure. When morning came and the embarrassing events from before unfolded she had thought she left a horrid impression with Tabitha. She had thought that she would be scared off or angered. Perhaps it wasn't exactly wise to just sleep in plain view of the one she followed, it wasn't as though she needed to and making her presence known in a more subtle way wouldn't have startled the little blunette as she did.

Though when the girl silently gathered her possessions and left rather calmly, Priscilla was initially confused, and when she returned the staff Tabitha left behind, she was relieved to find that Tabitha seemed to show gratitude...in a quiet and avoidant way admittedly...but it was gratitude all the same. And when she made a couple missteps when following her after that, even after she was sure Tabitha knew she was following, Tabitha made no actions to get away or prevent her from following further.

_'Progress!'_ Priscilla grinned an unseen grin as she matched Tabitha steps.

* * *

"Well, if it isn't little Tabitha! So you found a place to stay the night I hope?" The voice of Charlotte drew Tabitha's attention.

The Apothecary was found midst a massive crowd that at first seemed disorganized, yet the closer Tabitha got to the center the more she noticed the crowd seemed to funnel towards Jacob Jr. who stood beside Charlotte. Charlotte herself sat on a stool behind a small folding table, separating little white tablets and wrapping them into brown paper squares. Jacob Jr. cheerfully handed out the packaged tablets.

"Curious aren't you?" Charlotte smiled as she tied a small length of twine to close up a paper square.

Tabitha mutely nodded, ignoring the incessant poking and tugging from the invisible woman behind her.

"These," Charlotte holds up one of the little tablets from a pile, "is a little something I've created not long ago. You see, there is a sort of...epidemic as of late...and this provides some relief to those that have yet received treatment from the Church."

Tabitha tensed at the mention of an epidemic, the action noticed by Charlotte caused the Apothecary to smile.

"Oh, there is no need to worry. The contagious are quarantined, while the immune or treated come out to take care of business," Charlotte leaned forward to pat at Tabitha's shoulder in reassurance.

"The Church?" Tabitha's head tilted.

Pulling back the sleeve of her heavy coat, Charlotte showed Tabitha a wrapping of gauze similar to her own, though this one had traces of blood.

"Yes, the Romalian Church sometimes sends priests to the afflicted towns all over. Administering a treatment that I have yet to understand...involving injecting something into the patient...but I can vouch for the efficacy of the treatment myself!" She taps the bandage lightly, "I haven't shown a single symptom and have not been contagious ever since."

Tabitha blinked, how had she not noticed it before? Charlotte had not been the only one with a bandage on her forearm. Jacob Jr. also had one, as did a good number of the crowd.

"Is it...the same sickness?" Tabitha asked, her voice subdued.

"Oh? You mean as my daughter? Please, there is no need to walk on eggshells dear. Yes, it is. If only the Church had arrived days earlier she would have been saved. But I can't rightly blame them, now can I? How would they know of the epidemic in time without a messenger to tell them?" Charlotte sighed in defeat, shrugging, then continuing her monotonous task of sorting the tablets.

Satisfied in the answers and having no desire to further pry, Tabitha nodded and quietly turned away.

"It was nice to see you once again little Tabitha, please, if you are in the area again don't hesitate to visit," Charlotte's voice echoed behind Tabitha, causing the girl to wave weakly in response.

* * *

_'Finally!'_ Priscilla took a slightly faster pace than Tabitha this time.

"_About time she decides to leave! It feels just so wrong here...I think...I think I only noticed it now because people were outside, but, they smell...weird,' _the half-breed shivered, not due to of a chill, but rather disgust.

Her sensitive ears picked up conversation from all around, just as her nose picked up the horrid scent. Bits and pieces of voices sounded worried, some even pained. Far behind her she picked up a short and panicked conversation involving the woman that Tabitha seemed friendly with. It was panicked and forceful, followed by the tumbling of the stool and an extra set of footfalls that were more hurried and heavy than the rest.

She finally began to relax, falling back behind Tabitha, once more following her steps.

Until a shrill screech only she could hear froze her in place and dispelled her invisibility as her heart raced. She looked back towards the town with a cold sweat forming on her brow.

_'We need to get away...far far away...now...,'_ Priscilla gulped as she turned forward to find Tabitha staring at her in confusion.

Priscilla waved away the concern and promptly disappeared in a puff of snow, causing Tabitha to shake her head and continue on her way.

* * *

The blue fog turned out to be a godsend as Aileen shepherded the younger orphans through the underbrush, evading the pursuing men. Under normal circumstances, she and the others would have been just as, if not more worried, about the fog. However, the fog didn't brandish blades and arrows, yelling obscenities and threats at them.

"Big Sis? Where is Miss Tiffa?" One of the younger boys, with russet hair and matching eyes, whispered.

"Shh! Tiffa went to lure most of them away...now please be quiet," Aileen put a finger to her mouth in the signal to hush, then pulled a lock of auburn hair away from her eyes as she turned to peak out of the foliage.

Just outside a heavy boot slammed down, startling the barely teen girl, forcing her to stifle a yelp with both hands.

"Where the bloody 'ell did those urchins go?" The owner of the boot cursed, "And where is the new guy? Haven't seen him in a bit...slacker..."

Further away, Aileen saw another man shrug and laugh.

"Punk can go hang himself for all I care. Paranoid and superstitious, it just doesn't sit well with me. Really, the fog is just bloody damned fog, and we aren't being followed," the man further away rambled on, eliciting laughs from his companions.

Aileen counted around seven men, all far too close for comfort. Too close to afford them a means of escape. She started to turn away from the foliage when the gruff voice of one of the oldest men rand out in alarm.

"Hey, boy! Where have you been!? With this fucking fog all over we need all the eyes we can get!" The gruff man stomped towards a younger man that was barely visible in the fog.

Aileen could barely seen the moving lips of the younger man, yet no words could be heard.

"Ah? What is it? Speak up lad!"

The younger man's lips once more mimed words without sound. Now Aileen could see his face just a bit clearer as the blue fog shifted slightly. It was pale, his eyes locked in an expression of fear. The fog continued to shift with a light breeze, allowing her to see the man's chest...and the bright silvery object jutting out from it.

"He's telling you to repent...sinner," a smooth and deep feminine voice emanated from behind the younger man, followed by the sickening sound of metal being pulled from flesh as the man fell to his knees and then flat on his face, "then again...he could be telling you to run, I was never one to bother reading lips."

A tall black figure was revealed in the fog, arms spread to its side with a long silver blade in its right hand and a wispy bundle of cloth and thread in the left. A silver mask cover half the face while a sinister smile was in plain view beneath it.

Aileen's heart raced and her stomach churned as her gaze alternated between the fallen body and the figure. The other men backed away from the figure as it seemed to stare at each in turn, and then its stare fixed upon the orphan's hiding spot...and smiled.

"Well now, it seems I've found the Innocents as well. Hmm, everyone in a single location, how convenient," the figure hummed contently, and then mouthed some words while passing its left hand across its face.

_'Does...oh!'_ Aileen ducked deeper within the brush, instructing the others to not look outside and cover their ears. In a moment of hypocrisy, Aileen herself did not follow her own instructions, instead her eyes found themselves fixed on the figure through the leaves and branches. She could no longer understand the shouts of the men as they dashed towards the figure, who must have said something to provoke them.

* * *

She couldn't help but laugh. Hollows had sometimes showed more coordination and teamwork than these fools. They made mistakes upon mistakes that if she didn't find them humorous she'd find them insulting. She dodged their strikes in what could be described as some sort of violent dance as she ducked, parried , and backhanded the men as they stumbled in each others way.

"Come now, this is pathetic. Are those blades just for show?" Velka let out a lilting laugh

One of the larger, most likely older men, bellowed in anger and charged ahead of the others with his axe over head. The goddess simply sidestepped to the left, kicking the feet out from under the man. As soon as he landed on the ground, he screamed as Velka drove her blade into his back with a squelch.

"I suppose they are just for show. How disappointing," She mumbled with a frown as she stepped on the man's neck with her full weight, the resulting crunch caused the others to back away once more.

**THWIP**

An arrow passed by Velka's head and embedded itself in a tree far behind.

"Now now, an arrow is supposed to strike here," she pointed to her heart and then to her head, "this is too hard a target for an amateur as yourself."

The archer let loose another arrow in frustration, only to be stunned when the woman in black outright sliced it from the air. Velka then dashed forward, knocking several more projectiles from the air before bringing her silver blade down on the archer's bow, shattering it. He was struck down as he tried to pull a dagger from his belt in desperation.

"ENOUGH!" The man with a staff yelled as the remaining men rallied around him.

_'Oh? Is he some sort of sorcerer? If I remember correctly, the magic in this world is di-'_ Velka's thoughts were interrupted a massive spike of ice impaled her stomach.

"See, the wench bleeds like anyone else," the sorcerer gloated as the other men cheered.

Velka spit out some blood and formed a malicious red-stained smile as she pulled the spike from her abdomen.

"Yes, I bleed, but unlike you...," she stood straight, revealing the hole.

The men paled and Aileen gagged as the hole proved to be complete, viscera and a shattered spine being proof that it should have been fatal.

Velka whispered a prayer into her left hand, a stolen miracle from the Way of the White. Silence prevailed as the hole slowly closed, flesh and bone mended. She then raised the same hand aloft and the prayer changed to a litany of war and hate, though the words themselves were lost on all present but herself.

The sound of crackling and a high pitched hum resounded in the forest as a bolt of lightning was thrown from Velka's fist, sending the sorcerer backwards skidding along the forest floor. The smell sizzling of burnt flesh permeated the area. He didn't move to stand, the sorcerer simply lay there limp.

"I-is he...," one of the men questioned as another poked the sorcerer with his boot.

The man that kicked the sorcerer gulped as he looked to Velka, threw his weapons to the earth and took to a sprint into the forest. The others followed suit, leaving a Velka who was unsure whether to be amused or let down by the development.

"Pathetic," she spat the word as the blue fog started to fade, "well then, you may come out of hiding children."

From the nearby brush, a young girl barely in her teens hesitantly crawled out with many more younger boys and girls coming out behind her one by one.

"Naughty girl, I thought it was understood that you shouldn't have watched," Velka teased as she noticed how pale, nearly green, the eldest child looked.

The girl simply looked to her feet as she tried to keep from succumbing to nausea. She moved only to gently shepherd the younger children away from the clearing, most likely to spare them the sight of the corpses

_'Oh ho, a mature one?'_ Velka raised a brow behind her domino.

"Uh...um, lady?" A young and shaky voice accompanied by the gentle tugging of her cloak had startled Velka.

…Startled Velka...

_'How the hell?'_

"Lady? Are the bad men gone?" A young boy, barely to the waist of the eldest child, asked with moist eyes and nibbling his index finger nervously.

"Stephen!" The eldest girl reached out as if to grab the boy, though he was much too far from her reach. Her alarm soon faded to stunned silence as Velka's silver blade disappeared in her cloak and she knelt in front of Stephen.

"Yes yes, the bad men are gone," Velka patted the boys head, causing him giggle.

The Goddess pondered as she ruffled the boys hair. She could simply leave them to their own devices, her objective technically complete. Yet as she looked at the little boy and then to the older fearful girl, she felt as though something inside her clicked into place.

_'Well now...she asked to save them...to render them safe...the sinners that ran off could return...could these kids even survive on their own?'_

Velka's attention was drawn to the boy once more as he grasped at her and asked what all the children must have been thinking.

"Lady? Did you see Ms. Tiffa? Is she alright?" Stephen's brown eyes shimmered, causing Velka to flinch back.

"Er...yes, Tiffania, right? I met her earlier, she asked me to look for you. Unfortunately, she...," Velka caught the intense glare from the eldest girl, "had to go far away and may not be able to see you for a long time..."

She noticed the eldest girl's expression soften, though shown a sad understanding the younger children lacked.

"Now, for the time being, is there anyone that you could stay with?" Her question was met with several sad head-shakes from many of the children.

_'Well, that won't do...'_

"Um...actually...," the eldest girl rubbed the back of her neck as she approached.

"Ah, do you have an idea, girl?" Velka stood to her full height.

"Um... I'm Aileen, actually. And there is someone...she would send money and food every so often, and sometimes visited the orphanage," Aileen stood behind Stephen, placing her hands on her shoulders.

"Oh, Miss Mathilda! I like her, she'd come play with us sometimes. She's pretty and smells nice!" Stephen smiled widely, showing a couple missing baby teeth.

Velka did all she could to withhold a laugh at the boy's enthusiasm.

"Then where would this Mathilda be?"

Aileen grit her teeth at the question.

"Well, from the last letter we got from her she said she got a job at the Tristain Academy of Magic...we could never afford the trip alone...," the girl trailed off.

_'Oh...so it is an issue of funds then? Figures...,'_ a brow raised behind the mask as Velka turned towards the corpses, _'then again, miscreants such as these may have...'_

Velka smiled as Aileen, Stephen, and the remaining children looked at the woman in mild confusion.


	7. Chapter 6: Hunter's Moon,Waxing Crescent

**A/N: Man, this one took a while to put out. Well, a couple weeks late is better than never happening at all. Soon, soon all the players shall be gathered!**

* * *

Priscilla stood before the large double-doors that Tabitha had just left through. It had taken them the better part of two days to make it here, which Priscilla assumed was the little one's home. Yet already Tabitha had made it clear, with much miming and pointing, that Priscilla was to just wait here.

_'Somehow...would this be what if feels like for a dog to be told to heel?'_

Priscilla grunted as she turned in place to find a sharply dress old man standing behind her with his hands behind his back, and a kind smile on his face. The old man seemed to follow Priscilla's every step, with no intention of leaving her be.

"You wouldn't happen to be one for conversation would you?" Priscilla deadpanned.

She was met with furrowed brows and a shrug.

"Ah, right...almost forgot...I suppose I'll just entertain myself then," she mumbled as she ran her left hand through her hair.

As she tried to took her first step out of the foyer, she felt a tug on her robes which prompted her to turn. The old man had taken hold of her furry robe with a gentle grasp, he pointed to her scythe with a frown and shook his head.

"Oh..."

_'I suppose it wouldn't be right as a guest to carry a weapon around.'_

Looking around briefly, she opted to simply lean her scythe against the wall in the far corner away from the door, mostly hidden by a pillar. Looking to the old man she seen him nod appreciatively, and then bow with an arm extended to his side, effectively signaling her to proceed as she wished.

For the moment, she decided that she'd explore what her host's abode had to offer. It seemed rather large from the outside, though not well kept. This could be explained by the fact that it seemed that this old man was the only other resident aside from Tabitha.

Followed closely by the old man, she lazily wandered the attached hallway, inspecting each door in turn. Many that were simply left open seemed to be guest rooms or empty storage long unused. She had come across a couple study rooms that also seemed long abandoned, a split off hallway that seemed to be the servant's quarters which only had a single furnished room, which she guessed belonged to the old man. Opposite the servant's quarters was a staircase that led to a series of higher quality bedrooms, all of which were obviously unoccupied and neglected, save for a single closed door.

When Priscilla reached out to turn the doorknob, she found the old man's hand holding it firmly in place as he slowly wedged himself between the half-breed and the door. He gently pushed her hand away, once more with a frown and a slow shake of his head. Since this was the first time he objected to her exploration she stood confused a moment before nodding in understanding . She'd respect the privacy of her host. So she turned and continued her exploration of the first floor instead. Soon she came across the dining room, which had been moderately maintained but painfully underutilized.

_'Hmm, a shame really...,' _Priscilla frowned.

Connected to the dining room on the left was a kitchen, pristine and neat, with only a handful of objects showing regular use. Things such as a tea kettle, the bread oven, and a couple pots. On the right of the dining room was a short hallway with two rooms, one being a cluttered and weathered study that seemed to be a place someone had spent an inordinate amount of time using, and opposite of the study was a library.

Stepping into the library, Priscilla was hit by a scent that caused her to shiver in a mix nostalgia and pleasure. Without the taint of blood or mold and mildew, the smell of ink, paper, and leather binding combined with the warmth and well lit state of the room, Priscilla had found a refuge within a refuge. The care taken in maintaining the place showed in the cleanliness and organization. The moisture and temperature maintained as well as the lighting kept bright enough to read but not too bright all shown the effort put forth to prevent damage to the books.

Rather than remind her of her torment in the Archives, it reminded her of her brief respite within the Cathedral. Just before everything went horribly wrong. She hummed in contentment as she ran her fingers across the spines of a row of books. She thought back to fading memories of the time she happily spent with a young Gwynevere, the princess having been the primary influence in teaching her how to read and fostered her budding love of books despite the horrors that were the Archives. It seemed to be a common trend that the religious were also the scholarly, at least in Lordran anyway.

Priscilla looked to her shadow, the old man, as she furtively pinched the binding of a book on a shelf near the height of her shoulder. The old man gave her a bright and encouraging smile with a playfully dismissive wave one would give a child you had just given permission to go play. Immediately upon approval Priscilla flicked the book from its resting place into the palms of both hands, using the thumb of her left to pry the front cover open.

Her excitement and cheer quickly faded as her eyes were met with gibberish. The alphabet seemed the same, yet very little else made sense. So she deftly closed the book and replaced it in its spot, plucking a new one from another section. Repeating the process of opening and quickly scanning the contents of several more books only repeatedly frustrated the half-breed.

_'Seriously!? I can read almost a dozen languages, over a dozen if you count the travesty that is the various dialects of Carim,'_ Priscilla cringed as several memories of her attempts at complementing Gwynevere in Carim tongue resulted in her running off red faced with Priscilla absolutely confused...until she figured out just what she said.

_'...yet, THIS...just confirms how far I really am from..."home", aside from the moons of course...,'_ Priscilla sighed mournfully as she slowly replaced the final book to its home and slumped against the end of a bookshelf, sliding unceremoniously to the floor where she drawn her knees to her chest.

The old man, noticing the disturbing change in demeanor as his charge effectively did a 180 degree shift in attitude, asked what seemed to be a question in his and Tabitha's foreign tongue, worry etched on his face. Priscilla spared the man a dismissive glance as she let her face fall to her knee with a grunt and took a deep breath.

"I'm in a land that I have no knowledge of, for all intents and purposes alone, after slaughtering everyone in the place I called home and then some beasts after somehow finding myself in a snowy wasteland where I find someone on death's doorstep, then proceed to follow that person a fair distance to many places to find myself just as alone here and unable to even entertain myself with one of the few pleasures I've ever had since I can't understand your damned language," Priscilla mumbled in annoyance all in a single breath, purposely knocking a book from the bottom shelf to the floor to punctuate her final words in frustration.

The old man flinched at the outburst, alternating his stare between Priscilla and the fallen book. The fur-clad woman simply stared back out of the corner of her eye as a look of realization seemed to wash over the man's face. An excited but clipped exclamation from the man caught her attention as he darted off in a manner uncharacteristic of his previous demeanor.

_'What could that be about?'_ She wondered as she watched the man shuffle through the contents of an old and worn desk.

With a short satisfied laugh, he pulled out a small stack of thin books, blowing a layer of dust from the covers. He then pulled the chair from the desk and dragged it beside Priscilla, proceeded to sit in it and carefully hand the small stack to the dumbfounded woman now to his left. Priscilla gingerly accepted the books, shifting her legs so that they crossed and placing the stack on her lap. Looking at the cover of the topmost book, her eyes widened.

"Th-these are...," she whispered to herself.

The cover was brightly illustrated with animals, various fruits and vegetables, as well as a large printed title. Flipping the cover open she found each page equally illustrated, with the print equally large. Certain letters and certain words were colored differently at uneven intervals, suggesting that it was meant to highlight their importance. Closing the first book, she quickly examined the others in the stack. Each one shared the highly illustrated look, yet each seemed vastly different, with some of the latter ones being more text heavy.

Looking up from the books to the man, she found him smiling warmly as he pushed his chair a little bit closer and reach over to flip the topmost book's cover open. With the same hand he pointed to the first printed word and begun to read out loud, stopping at each highlighted word and pointing at an image on the page.

_'He...is he really? He is!'_

She was unsure whether to be thankful or to be mortified that the old man had decided to take it upon himself to...teach her to read. Being treated like a child may have felt patronizing, but seeing the incredibly happy look on his face, she couldn't hold it against him. Instead she smiled.

_'Well now, it may not be the ideal way...but I can work with this,'_ Her expression changed to that of determined concentration.

She decided that the look on Tabitha's face would be absolutely worth it. Priscilla was nothing if not an exceptionally prodigious student. A grin crept upon her face briefly at the thought.

* * *

Aileen heaved a heavy sigh as she tucked in the last of her adopted siblings, smiling faintly as she stood from the great mass of blankets Velka somehow procured from the crew. She found it absolutely astounding and perplexing how the odd woman managed find passage to Tristain on such short notice, especially considering the disturbing news when they arrived in the port city of Newhaven. The brewing revolution that threatened to plunge Albion into an uncertain future.

She rubbed her eyes, combating her own fatigue. Too wary her strange surroundings and not too keen on having nightmares, she quietly made her way out of the cordoned off piece of the cargo hold Velka somehow booked for them. How the entire crew decided to sleep while in flight and with Albion in such a state of turmoil, let alone how any of her siblings quite promptly passed right out. Then again, the children did have a good excuse, the long walk from the forest wasn't exactly easy. Her burning thighs attested to it for certain.

Groaning at the ache of her legs as she forced herself up the staircase to the deck, she hoped some fresh air would clear her head and allow her some peace for the night. The cool wind was refreshing at least, and the crescent blue moon managed to overpower its red twin which provided a rather calming blue tinge to the world. Finding a short stack of crates tied down that made a decent enough chair to lounge in, Aileen was content to stare into the night.

A sharp twang of metal startled her, drawing her gaze towards the bow. Sliding off her seat and navigating the mast and cargo, she was welcomed by dazzling flashes of silver with an almost melodic sound of metal slicing through the cool night air. Aside from the shimmering blade, if it weren't for the light of the moon casting a silhouette across her, Aileen would never have seen the statuesque form of Velka. Each thrust, slash, and simulated parry, were executed with such precision and practice that Aileen had at first mistaken it for dance. She only realized she had forgotten to breath when the 'dance' ceased and blue eyes that reflected light like a cat's rested on her.

"Shouldn't you be asleep, young lady?" Velka slowly slid her silver rapier into its scabbard as she gave Aileen an appraising stare.

"Ah...I-I just...I...have a lot on my mind...,"the girl began to wring her hands under Velka's gaze.

"Hmm, I'd assume you would. Your maturity is both a boon and a curse, I suppose," an amused smile crept on Velka's face.

Velka leaned with her back to the railing, tapping her hand to the weathered wood.

"Come, would you like to talk to ease your mind?"

Despite her misgivings about the mysterious woman, Aileen found herself no more than a few inches from Velka's left, with a dark gloved hand resting gently on her right shoulder. Silence prevailed as Aileen debated merits of opening up to a stranger, whether said stranger saved them from a bloody fate or not. A quick glance at Velka's face showed that her face had softened, her mask missing from its usual place, patiently waiting. So Aileen took a shuddering breath.

"I...don't know what to do..."

"Hmm?" Velka raised a single brow.

"What do I say when they finally realize she won't come back? Even I have a hard time believing she's gone," Aileen screwed her eyes shut, tears welling up and threatening to fall.

Velka gently squeezed the girl's shoulder, encouraging her to continue.

"She...she was everything to us. She accepted us when others ignored us or pushed us away," she rubbed her eyes in turn, "she made us a family, taught us to read and write..."

Aileen slid down to her knees, Velka following beside with her hand moving to her back.

"...she'd tell us stories or sing us to sleep nearly every night...though, she couldn't cook at all, just horrible," she giggled, a smile faded just as quickly as it appeared. "Why? Why did this happen? Was it because she was part elf? She tried to hide it, but I knew, some of the others did too. Was that it?"

She trembled and didn't resist when Velka gently pulled her close, wrapping the now quietly sobbing girl in her cloak and stroking her shoulder.

"An elf is a being man doesn't understand, right? At least from what I know. And man fears what they do not understand, and fear breeds hate, and hate, violence...as such, the sins of man are many...," Velka whispered, "but you mustn't fear, nor hate, nor raise your fist...at least not yet for the latter...that is after all, MY job."

So Aileen cried herself to sleep in Velka's arms, unaware the grace of the goddess she and her brothers and sisters had been blessed.

_'Now...this is closer to what know,'_ Velka smiled in satisfaction.

* * *

The village of Tarbes is a simple farming community cut into the Tristain woodland. They are a humble people, having starting preparing the fields for planting with the onset of spring. One young woman, however, isn't taking part in the surprisingly festive work. Behind her family home she hunches over several small wooden basins.

"Aaaand, done!" she chirped as she washed and shook her hands dry.

"SIESTA!? Where are you girl? The carriage is almost here!" The voice of a man bellowed from inside followed by the shutters of the nearby window slamming open with a sharp clap.

"Kya~!" Siesta, startled by the sudden intrusion and noise had kicked over the smaller of the basins, "ah...oh bugger, that stuff is expensive..."

"Oh, there you are...you did it again huh? Well, it isn't like the boys or Ma really mind, but you do know your sisters will...," four young girls interrupted, popping their heads in the window from below the man.

"Big Sis, the carriage is Here~...AH, YOU DID IT AGAIN!" The girls screamed in unison as they scrambled to climb out the window.

"Oh! Oh no no, don't you dare!" Siesta cried out as the eldest of the sisters grabbed the still upright basin of clean water, all while trying to dislodge the younger three girls from their hold of her legs.

"Nuh uh, not gonna let you go," the little anchors chimed in unison.

"We're gonna wash that out right away!" The eldest said with a mischievous smirk as she crept closer to her immobilized sister.

Siesta squeaked as she clutched protectively to her still drying hair.

"Oh, knock it off girls, she has to go now!" A woman that the four girls struck a disturbing resemblance to, appeared from around the far corner of the house.

"AH, you saved me mom," Siesta managed to shake off her living bindings and skip off to her savior.

"Well, you should know better, dear. I can't say I blame them either, you're so much prettier without that," she playfully scolded.

Siesta blushed and pouted while crossing her arms in indignation. The laughter of her father could be heard from the window.

"Come now, it wouldn't due to have your ride wait," Siesta's mother pulled the still annoyed girl by her wrist.

By the road at the front of the house the coach-driver stood by bored, having already loaded what little luggage was set for him. Two young boys waited by their father as the women of the family made their way to the carriage.

"You're really going, Sis?" The older boy asked, with an excited nod from Siesta in response.

"We're going to miss you," the younger brother's voice cracked as he held back tears.

Siesta crouched before him to ruffle his hair.

"Oh, don't cry, I'll visit when they have vacation, okay?" Her assurance seemed to calm the boy well enough.

She then turned to the remainder of her family. Her pouting sisters, her downtrodden brothers, and the mother and father with beaming smiles.

"You sure you got everything packed up you need?" Her father clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"Mhmm, I'm sure," Siesta gave him a hug that she need to rise to her toes to give.

"Remember, dear, we're proud of you no matter what, and you always have a home here," her mother wrapped her arms around them both, choking back her own tears.

Soon all her sibling joined in, the youngest brother letting out a whimper.

"Well, get going now, the driver is getting impatient," her mother chided as she patted down and straightened Siesta's skirt.

With a nod, Siesta turned to enter the carriage, sparing one more look at her family and waving good bye as she closed the door.

"So, there she goes huh? Seems like yesterday they left her to us..."

Within the carriage, Siesta let out a deep sigh as she wiggled in her seat to find comfort. She smiled, resolving to visit home as much she could. Minutes passed, in nervousness she toyed with an item kept on a silver chain around her neck and hidden in her blouse. Pulling it free from her bust, she stared fondly at the item. It was a mystery to her, but it always eased her mind and whisked away all doubt. A memento given to her only a few years ago, when her parents revealed to her why she was different from her siblings. It didn't really matter to her, THEY were her family after all. She continued to toy with the item for many more minutes, a simple small medallion cast in gold, with a symbolic sun emblazoned on its face and foreign words scratched into its back.

* * *

Tabitha pinched the bridge of her nose and adjusted her glasses as she walked the steps to her manor. Her report had gone as well as she expected, and by well she meant absolutely it was horrid. Sheffield seemed genuinely surprised and very off-put by her return, which Tabitha actually took some comfort at the woman's displeasure. With a dishonest and cold 'congratulations' from her uncle, who promptly crushed the trinket beneath his heel, she was sent away. Her next 'assignment' already given to her in the form of a letter.

She let out a small huff at the thought, she'd get to continue attending the Academy, though she'd been tasked with...watching...on another student. It didn't matter, she's alive, she'll get to see her mother, soon her only friend Kirche, and potentially have a companion in the form of a familiar. She had to allow her at least these comforts.

As she pushed the double-doors open, she was honestly surprised at how empty the foyer was. She had thought her furry stalker would be waiting for her by the door, as eager and quite frankly as annoying as a loyal puppy. It was when Percerin hadn't shown up to greet her that worry crept into her mind.

She hastily checked the manor, finding it even more poorly kept than usual, until she finally came to the kitchen. It seemed that it was still used, and recently at that. Now somewhat confused, she continued her search, albeit with a little less urgency.

_'What could have possibly occupied Percerin? Was it her?'_ Tabitha frowned slightly,_ 'I swear, if she did anything...'_

She came to the door to the library, her sanctuary second only to her study. Light poured from beneath the door and she could hear Percerin talking inside...with an unfamiliar voice of a woman. In curiosity and worry she pushed the door open, a loud bang echoed in the hallways as it hit the wall. She flinched at the unexpected and unintended slam.

"OH! Milady, you've returned! I'm so sorry, please, I'll fix you a meal. You must be famished from the journey!" Percerin jumped from his chair beside the furry woman, happier and more energetic than usual.

Tabitha raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior as he walked by her with a sense of purpose and a wide smile on his face. Turning to look to her guest she noticed that she was surrounded by towering stacks of books, and loose sheets of paper littered the floor. Picking up one sheet she stared at it disbelievingly. On the sheet, in absurdly poor penmanship, where childhood practice sentences in the language common among the Brimiric nations thanks to the prominence of the Academy, repeated over and over, Tristanian.

She slowly faced the Priscilla with a neutral expression. She received a cheerful wave as the larger woman looked up from her work.

"Oh, welkome home, Mizz Tabitha!' Priscilla said, horribly accented and slightly slow.

"Ah...hello...,"was all Tabitha could muster before turning to the door-frame and lightly headbutting it.

_'I...I was only gone...two...days...'_

She repeatedly tapped her forehead to the frame as Priscilla looked to her in mild confusion and amusement.


	8. Announcement

First and foremost, I wish to apologize to everyone waiting for any updates on any of my stories for effectively falling off the radar completely. The past couple months have been rough, what with another burnt out computer, another job change, and a rather horrible bout of depression. Now I'm working on getting things stable again so that my motivation to write (honestly one of the things I find most pleasurable and relaxing) gets back to how it was.

The next chapter of BMBB is currently in the works, but is actually hitting some snags. In the mean time I'll most likely attempt to push out a chapter of Embers from Ashes and Tiffania's side story in BMBB. On the topic of Tiffania's story, the next part of it will act as the introduction/prologue and after it and the next chapter of the main story will also mark a change in naming convention for chapters since I've decided to combine the sidestory and main story into a triple crossover. Main story chapters will then be refered to as "Paper Moon" while Tiffania's story will be refered to as "Angel of Mercy".

Also, in an attempt to keep myself from wallowing in depression, I'll be attempting to work on new chapters of Rush of the Wind, a new FoZ x Warcraft crossfic involving Grom Hellscream and a Louise that will delve into Shamanism, a FoZ post-canon fic starring an aging Karin, and something completely different from my previous works, a romance AU-fic of Sekirei. All the aforementioned will be relatively more upbeat or hotblooded, but don't expect things to be done in the order I mentioned.

Finally, I'll be putting up a poll in regards to what you wonderful people would like to see Tiffania use as her hunter's Trick-Weapon.

Thank you for your patience and sticking with me this long.

-Chiriruoni


End file.
